


I Wanted To Get Revenge But I Got You Instead

by orphan_account



Series: Tumblr Aus [3]
Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: M/M, dorky!Pete, original character is pretty minor, punk!patrick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-25
Updated: 2015-03-25
Packaged: 2018-03-19 15:29:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3614985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Totally saw you spray paint the principals car and you’ll have to buy me dinner to keep me quiet." Au</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Wanted To Get Revenge But I Got You Instead

**Author's Note:**

> There's gonna be more punk!Patrick in the future because yes

****_ Stupid principal, giving me detention _ , Patrick thought angrily.  God, you beat up one kid and bam! Detention.   
  
_ Whatever, I'm gonna get my revenge _ , Patrick thought, playing with his lip ring slightly. He smirked, ruffled a hand through his bleach blonde and hot pink quiff, and sat back in his chair, planning.    
  
~~**~~    
  
"Thanks for the paint, Joe," Patrick said after school. His friend Joe had loaned him black and red spray paint for his revenge.    
  
"No problem man," Joe replied. "But none of this gets back to me, got it?"   
  
"Don't worry, none of it will get back to me either," Patrick told him, smirking. He wave and walked outside, accidentally knocking over some nerd in an oversized forest green sweater. "Watch out!" He snarled, before realizing that it was his totally secret crush, Pete Wentz.    
  
"S-Sorry, I-I d-didn't see you th-there," the boy muttered, holding his books right her against his chest and pushing up his glasses.    
  
"Just don't let it happen again, okay?" Patrick told him, surprisingly with no venom in his tone.    
  
Pete was visibly surprised, "Uh...okay," he muttered before rushing off.    
  
Patrick just laughed slightly and made his way to the faculty parking lot. He pulled out the spray paint and covered the entire windshield and all the windows in black paint, and was just climbing onto the hood to write a huge red 'FUCK YOU' on the top, when he heard the school door open. He jumped off the car and ducked behind it, only to hear the familiar voice of the janitor leaving. Patrick sighed in relief, and fiddled with one of his rather small, black gauges while he waited for the janitor to leave.    
  
He jumped back on top of the car and wrote out his message before signing it with an 'X'. Patrick laughed, hopped of the car, and ditched Joe's spray cans in a trash bin, where the latter would pick them up later. He dusted off his hands, like there was any actually dirt on them, and was about to leave when he heard a quiet voice say, "Don't think I didn't see that."    
  
Patrick whipped around and saw none other than Pete Wentz standing against the school, leaning on the wall with his arms crossed.    
  
"Uh...what are you talking about?" Patrick said calmly.    
  
"You spray painted the principal's car. I saw the whole thing. Not bad, by the way," Pete remarked.    
  
Patrick sighed, "How can I get you to keep quiet?"   
  
"Buy me dinner, and my lips will be sealed."   
  
"What, like a date?" He scoffed, while praying, please please please be a date!   
  
"Exactly like a date," Pete agreed. Patrick grinned at him, before pinning him against the wall and kissing him passionately.    
  
He pulled away, and saw that Pete was breathless and his cheeks were flushed. Also his hair may or may not have been a bit disheveled from Patrick's hands and his black fingerless gloves.    
  
"I'll pick you up at six tonight," he whispered, before pulling a pen out of Pete's pocket, and scribbling his number on the dorky boy's arm.    
  
~~**~~    
  
"OH MY GOD ANDY I HAVE A DATE WITH PATRICK STUMP!" Pete squealed to his friend Andy when they were at Pete's house an hour later.    
  
"YES YOU GO PETEY BOY!" He squealed back.    
  
"Oh god, what do I wear?" Pete panicked. He dove into his walk-in closet and came back out wearing a black cardigan, grey t-shirt, black jeans, and black boots. "Nah too dark for me," he said before disappearing again. He came back barefoot in a blue and green plaid button down and slim, tan khakis.    
  
"Perfect, well almost," Andy said. He walked over to Pete and took the other boy's glasses off, before sitting him on a stool in front of his mirror. Andy fluffed his hair so it stood up a bit, and then stood Pete back up. Andy grabbed his shirt sleeves and rolled them up three-quarters of the way. He then gave Pete his glasses back, and threw a pair of black high-top converse at him.    
  
"Put those on then I better get going, don't wanna intrude on you and Lover Boy," Andy teased. Pete laughed nervously and did as he was told, before standing up again. "You look great!"    
  
"Thanks, I'm so nervous," Pete gulped.    
  
"You'll do great," Andy assured him.    
  
"What if I stutter?" He worried.    
  
"Then Patrick will know you're nervous and be fine with it!"   
  
"How do you know? No one knows what that guy's like other than the punk he acts like. Oh god I'm gonna puke."   
  
"You'll be fine! I gotta run, call me when the date's over!" Andy called behind him on his way out.    
  
Pete went downstairs to wait in the living room, and he was stopped by his mother.    
  
"Where are you going looking so fancy?" She questioned.    
  
"A date," he sighed, causing his mom to squeal.    
  
"Your first date! How cute! Who is he?" She asked excitedly.    
  
"Um...no one don't worry," he reassured her. The doorbell rang, and Pete ran to it. He opened it, slipped out quickly and slammed it shut again. Patrick raised a pierced eyebrow at him. "My mom wanted to meet you. It's better if that doesn't happen, come on."   
  
"Ah, got it," Patrick grumbled.    
  
"N-No not because of you d-don't worry!" He stammered. "God no, you're great! She's really embarrassing though."   
  
"Oh! I thought you were one of those kids who dates a punk but doesn't want their parents to know," Patrick admitted.    
  
"Nah, she'd get over it if I told her," Pete responded as they reached the end of the drive way.    
  
"Would she get over you riding a motorcycle?" Patrick smirked.    
  
"Who knows? Why...oh," Pete replied. They went around one of the bushes at the end of his driveway and saw a shiny black and sliver motorcycle parked behind it.    
  
"Here take this," Patrick ordered, handing Pete a white motorcycle helmet. "We don't want any pretty little heads getting broken."   
  
"What about you though?"   
  
"I said 'pretty heads'," Patrick spat. He took Pete's glasses off surprisingly gently, as the latter pulled the helmet on.    
  
"You're beautiful," Pete told him sincerely, taking his glasses back and sliding them on.    
  
Patrick didn't reply, just climbed onto the bike, stood it up, and flicked his head in a gesture to tell Pete to climb on behind him. "Wrap your arms around my stomach, don't Heimlich maneuver me though," he chuckled.    
  
Pete did as he was told, and wrapped his arms around Patrick's middle, unable to avoid snaking them under the latter's leather jacket. Patrick started the bike, told Pete where to put his feet, revved the engine, picked up his own feet, and sped off.    
  
Pete screamed a bit, and Patrick laughed. Pete joined in and settled his chin against the other boy's shoulder.    
  
"Are you trying to cuddle me on a motorcycle?" Patrick called back to him, smirk audible in his voice. Pete felt the other boy's neck heat up, and he giggled.    
  
"You're blushing," he teased. "Aww I made you blush," he giggled in a sing-songy voice.    
  
"Shut it you!" Patrick replied, pulling into the parking lot of a diner called Iero's.    
  
"Motorcycles are cool," Pete breathed out, as he handed Patrick his glasses so he could take off his helmet.    
  
Patrick laughed, "They really are." He took Pete's hand and walked into the dinner.    
  
"PATTY!" A little kid's voice yelled.    
  
"Hiya Quinn," Patrick cooed at the child, as they ran into his arms, causing him to pick them up.    
  
A man came from behind the door to the kitchen and had bright red hair. "Oh hey Patrick," the man said.    
  
"Hey Gerard, this is Pete, my date," he told him.    
  
"Aww Patty has a boyfriend!" The child squealed.    
  
"Yeah I do kid, I'll see you later sweetheart, Pete here and I need to have dinner," Patrick told them.    
  
"'Kay, bye Patty!" Quinn squealed, before running to another man, this one with brown hair.    
  
Gerard led them over to a table and gave them menus. They both ordered chocolate milkshakes, and Gerard left to make them.     
  
"You're surprisingly good with kids," Pete told him.    
  
"What? Did you think I drowned bunnies in my free time or something? Just because I dress like this doesn't mean I'm a sociopath!" Patrick spat. "You know what this was a mistake," he rushed before standing up.    
  
"W-Wait! I don't think that! Stop assuming please! I was just surprised is all!" Pete begged.    
  
Patrick sighed and sat back down. He lay his head in his arms on the table. "I'm sorry, I'm just so used to it from my mom and stepdad. I kind assumed it from you too," Patrick muttered.    
  
"I won't judge you based on how you dress. I promise. I know from personal experience that the way people present themselves isn't how they necessarily are," Pete told him, resting a hand on his arms.    
  
Patrick's head shot up and his eyebrow was raised. "What exactly does that mean?"    
  
"Well I look like a total nerd right? Like the 'listens to classical music and reads math book in their free time' type of nerd. Well, I hate classical music. My favorite band is actually Metallica, and I play bass. And I may or may not have a tattoo," Pete told him.    
  
"No way!" Patrick gasped. "I love Metallica! And...okay well I really love Elvis Costello and David Bowie too. And I surprisingly don't have a tattoo."   
  
"I can show you mine later," Pete said.    
  
Patrick snorted, before bursting out giggling. Pete looked on, really confused, until Patrick gasped out between laughs, "That's what he said."   
  
Pete just glared at him, but he kept laughing, and eventually Pete couldn't help but join in. "Haha dick jokes are sooo funny," he sassed, rolling his eyes.    
  
"You were laughing," Patrick pointed out.    
  
"Yeah I guess I was," Pete sighed, as Gerard came back with one milkshake and two straws. He smirked, and left.    
  
"I hate him," Patrick sighed, taking the wrapper off his straw and flicking it at Pete.    
  
"Hey!" Pete squeaked in protest. He stuck his tongue out at Patrick who jut laughed.    
  
~~**~~   
  
"That was fun," Pete told Patrick when they walked out of the diner about an hour later.    
  
"Yeah it really was," Patrick agreed, before helping Pete put the helmet back on.   
  
"I-I'd love to do this again...?" Pete stammered out.    
  
"So would I. Um...do you wanna be my boyfriend?" Patrick asked, lacking all the confidence he usually exhumed.    
  
"I'd love to," Pete reassured him, hugging him since he had a helmet on. They both climbed onto the motorcycle and Patrick drove back to Pete's house.    
  
"See you tomorrow boyfriend," Patrick smirked.    
  
"See you, boyfriend," Pete replied, blushing.


End file.
